


Fool For Love

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What with the tour and holidays it's been a few weeks since Harry's seen Nick. He finds himself hoping to come back to more than just friendship. </p><p>(set on the night of March 31st/April 1st 2013, during the UK leg of the Take Me Home tour)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool For Love

Harry had wanted to surprise him, but by the time he'd driven back from Liverpool after the concert it was gone two AM and that was no time to be banging on someone's door unannounced.

Consequently, he'd sent an exploratory text earlier in the evening which had immediately received an affirmative reply - but that had been when he'd expected to be back in London around midnight. Harry glanced at the clock on the dash and sighed, sending another text.

_You still up?_

He sat there drumming his fingers on the wheel, wondering whether to head home in the meantime, or take a chance and head for Nick's. Before he'd made up his mind though, his phone trilled with a reply.

_Yeh come on over_

Harry smiled, turning the engine back on and silently thanking the gods of scheduling that it was a bank holiday and Nick didn't have a show to be up for.

Fifteen minutes later he was standing outside the door to Nick's flat, feeling unaccountably nervous and telling himself not to be stupid. It wasn't as if he'd been gone so long that anything would have changed, but - but. He frowned, trying to shake off the mood. He was tired, that's all.

Harry pressed the doorbell then stood there for a few moments before remembering it didn't work. "Fix your fucking bell Nick," he muttered, knocking instead. The longer he stood here the more self-conscious he felt, and there were frequently paps lurking in the vicinity all hours of the night. 

He was about to knock again, harder, when the door was yanked open and Nick was standing in front of him with a goofy grin on his face. 

"Took you long enough," Harry muttered, stepping inside quickly and pushing the door shut behind him. 

Nick ignored his grumpy tone and carried on grinning at him in fond amusement. "Hello popstar," he said finally, voice low and sleepy and Harry wondered if he'd woken him up after all.

Harry's tension melted away at the same time Nick reached out to pull him into a hug. For a while they just stood there in the hallway, arms wrapped around each other and Harry's face half-buried in Nick's shoulder. 

With every passing second that stretched the moment out, Harry knew he should pull away, knew it had already gone awkwardly past the acceptable length of hug that could be counted as 'friendly'. At the same time voluntarily leaving the comfort of Nick's embrace felt like more than he could bear. 

Harry was just steeling himself to move away and face the inevitably excruciating conversation regarding why exactly he'd felt the need to cling to his friend for so long when Nick suddenly squeezed him tighter and murmured something against his hair.

"Welcome home." 

Harry looked up and smiled at him.

"Like the hair," Harry teased, swallowing down the unexpected lump in his throat. He ruffled the bright pink quiff with his fingers, making Nick duck away laughing. 

"Oh, yeah, forgot you hadn't seen it," Nick grinned at him. This was a massive lie, he'd even re-dyed it so Harry would get to see the full effect, despite knowing that Harry would take the piss. Maybe _because_ Harry would take the piss. 

_Sad, desperate, attention seeker_ , Nick told himself, even as he delighted in Harry's laughter, fending off his hands.

"I wouldn't run your fingers through it, you'll get 'em all pink," Nick warned, still laughing. "It's not the world's classiest dye."

"Suits you then."

"Piss off." 

They'd moved into the living room, and somehow Nick's arm was still round Harry's waist.

"D'you want a drink or something?"

"Could I have a glass of milk?"

Nick went off into a peal of laughter, and Harry shoved him. "What?"

"You're so rock n roll, you," Nick told him, heading for the kitchen. 

"Shuttup." Harry followed him, yawning, and settled against the counter to watch Nick fussing about in the fridge and looking for a clean glass. He was wearing a sloppy t-shirt and knee-length denim shorts, and Harry let his gaze linger on Nick's arse as he bent over.

"I missed you." Harry hardly realised he'd said it out loud until the words were out of his mouth, and then he could have kicked himself. He hoped for a desperate second that Nick hadn't heard, but the snort he gave suggested otherwise.

"Shouldn't have fucked off to LA then, should you?" Nick declared, bringing the milk over and handing it to him. Instead of walking away again, he leaned against the counter next to Harry, close enough that their arms were brushing.

"I needed some sun," Harry mumbled into the glass, grateful that Nick wasn't ridiculing him.

"You're British, you don't need sun," Nick objected. "You're supposed to live on drizzle and disappointment like the rest of us."

Harry smiled, then went cross-eyed as his stomach chose that moment to give an embarrassing rumble.

"Hungry?" Nick asked, and Harry nodded sheepishly. 

"Didn't have time for any dinner."

Nick tutted at him. "You'll waste away if you're not careful. I think there's some chicken left? Could do you a sandwich if y'want?"

Half-asleep and not thinking, Harry turned and kissed him gratefully on the cheek. He froze, realising what he'd done a second too late. "Thanks mum," he said quickly, hoping Nick would think he was just mucking about.

"Cheeky beggar." Nick moved hastily away, hoping Harry hadn't noticed the scarlet blush creeping over his face.

He waited until Harry was settled on the sofa with a mouthful of sandwich and safely unable to reply, before saying quietly, "I missed you too, you know."

Harry looked for a second like he might choke, before recovering enough presence of mind to swallow. He opened his mouth, then realised he had no idea what to say, so settled for bumping his knee against Nick's.

When he'd finished eating, Harry sat back with a sigh, and Nick slid an arm round his shoulders. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks." Harry leaned against him and Nick squirmed round on the cushion to tuck Harry more snugly into his side. They'd passed enough evenings together like this, flopped on the couch in front of the telly for it to seem natural, although this particular state of boneless snuggling was more usually the result of several hours' worth of gradual slumping and alcohol consumption.

Harry's arm was curled over Nick's stomach, with his cheek resting on Nick's shoulder. Nick had both arms round him, and one foot hooked over the back of Harry's legs.

"Y'staying?" Nick murmured, resisting the urge to drop a kiss into Harry's hair.

"Do you mind?" Harry turned a sleepy face up to smile hopefully at him. The thought of going back out into the night and driving home to a cold, empty house was less than appealing.

"Course not." Nick rubbed Harry's back reassuringly. "You know you're always welcome."

"I don't want to be in the way."

Nick wrinkled his nose. "In the way of what?" 

Harry shrugged, whilst trying not to look too obviously like he was nestling against Nick's chest. The hand was still rubbing his back, and his eyes fluttered closed for a second.

After a few quiet minutes had passed, during which Harry seemed content to lie plastered against him, sleepily unaware that he was being watched, Nick made up his mind.

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah. Course." Harry mumbled it into Nick's shirt without looking up.

"Is everything okay?"

Harry did lift his head then, to Nick's relief looking genuinely surprised. "Yeah. Shouldn’t it be?"

Nick shrugged awkwardly, not quite sure how to put into words the vague concerns he had that there might be something deeper behind the way Harry spent more time sleeping on his couch than in his own home, or the way he was currently attached to him like a limpet. Not that Nick was complaining.

But Harry was blinking up at him in obvious bafflement, and as Nick tried to wave away what had obviously been a stupid thing to say, Harry wriggled further up so their faces were on a level.

"Nick? I'm fine," Harry breathed, and Nick couldn’t help himself, he pushed his hand into Harry's hair, caressing the side of his head. Harry smiled, nudging into the touch.

"Really." Harry gazing seriously at him, just inches away, and Nick swallowed.

"Well. Good. I just - you'd tell me, right? If there was anything wrong?"

"Yeah. Sure." Harry dropped his eyes, hoping it didn’t make it look like he was lying. Nick's hand was cupping his face now, his thumb stroking over Harry's cheek, and Harry realised uncomfortably that given the position he was currently lying in, Nick was liable to feel exactly what Harry's problem was very soon if he kept touching him like that.

He looked back up, meaning to give Nick a brisk smile and sit up, but found Nick was still gazing at him with a sleepy softness, as if Harry was the most fascinating thing in the world, and the breath caught in his throat. 

Nick gave a shaky laugh, praying desperately that he didn’t get an erection. Harry had a habit of staring intently at your lips that was hideously arousing, and he was doing it now. Nick licked his lips nervously, and nearly died when Harry unconsciously mirrored the action.

Harry drew up one knee, letting his bare foot trail down Nick's calf. Their eyes met, with amused recognition that they were too obvious for this moment to be anything but loaded with intent. Even so, there was a hesitation, Nick still half-unwilling to believe Harry really wanted what he was hoping, so it was Harry who closed the gap and kissed him.

They stayed like that for several seconds, lips pressed together, nothing more. Nick realised he could feel Harry's heart beating against his chest, and slid his arms round him, more protective than seductive.

When they pulled apart they both laughed, the tension dissolving into something warmer, easier. Harry leaned forward to recapture Nick's mouth, sliding his arms around his neck. The second kiss was deeper, licking into each other's mouths, eager and uninhibited. Nick's hands were buried in Harry’s hair, holding him there to be kissed. Harry wriggled right on top of him, pinning Nick to the sofa, both of them laughing breathlessly.

It wasn't exactly the first time they'd kissed. That had been months back, both of them wasted at the end of an evening, scattering of other people in the same room, equally plastered. They'd been sitting next to each other on a sofa like this in someone else's house, and Nick had suddenly leaned over and started snogging him.

Harry had been startled but not averse, and secretly disappointed when Nick had made no reference to it afterwards. Harry had expected either a stammered apology, or a suggestion they do it again, but Nick had just carried on as if nothing had happened. Harry had discovered since then that snogging his friends - male and female - was something Nick did with alarming regularity, and didn’t consider it of any consequence.

He'd put it out of his mind as a one off. And then the Brits had happened, and being with Nick had meant the night had gone on happening until it was four AM and just the two of them left, back here on this very sofa, too wired to go to sleep and with two hours to kill before they had to leave for Nick's show.

It had been Harry then, with the confidence of the supremely shitfaced who'd taken Nick by surprise, straddling his lap and sticking his tongue in his mouth. The next two hours had passed in a blur of kissing and groping and grinding against each other, too tired, drunk and uncoordinated to do anything else.

Harry had held out a vain hope that this time, Nick might have said something. But instead he'd just made some offhand remark about remembering very little past a certain time, and Harry had never been brave enough to bring it up.

This would no doubt be another of those never-to-be-mentioned occasions, Harry thought ruefully, as he closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to remember every second. 

Not that there was anything half-hearted or hesitant about the way Nick was kissing him, far from it. Having assured himself that Harry was happy to continue past the first tentative foray, Nick was now kissing him back with a passion that bordered on desperation. 

It wasn't long before Harry had a growing problem in his jeans, and given the tightness of the particular pair he was wearing, it was both impossible to hide and bloody uncomfortable.

"Uhh." Harry wriggled against Nick's thighs, trying to adjust himself under the denim without using his hand. He failed miserably, although it did serve to reveal that Nick was in the same condition.

"D’you mind if I - " Harry tailed off red faced, sitting up and fumbling with the top button of his jeans. Nick sniggered.

"It's a wonder you've got any circulation at all in those. Are you even wearing - oh." He broke off abruptly as it became apparent that no, Harry wasn’t wearing any underwear. "Fuck," Nick muttered, with a suddenly dry mouth.

"Sorry." Harry flashed him an embarrassed grin, and Nick held out his arms, pulling Harry back down into them.

"Don't have to apologise for kissing me, Styles," he said, kissing Harry firmly to prove his point, and sliding a hand down the back of Harry's jeans at the same time.

Harry jumped a little, then pressed forward against him, enjoying the way Nick's fingers were cupping his arse, kneading gently. Harry's flies were hanging open now, his cock sticking up against his t-shirt. He could feel Nick's erection against his leg, a firm bulge in his shorts that Harry longed to touch but didn’t quite dare without being invited.

They carried on kissing, neither yet openly acknowledging the fact they were both hard as hell, but with a lot more bodily contact than before. 

Nick slid his hands under Harry's shirt, fingers splayed out against his back, and Harry moaned approval so loudly that Nick cackled with laughter.

"Shut up Grimshaw." Harry sat up, deliberately pressing down against Nick's cock and making him grunt. Nick reached out for him, ready to protest at Harry's withdrawal and apologise for laughing, but then realised Harry had sat up to take his shirt off entirely, and shut up.

"Okay?" Harry looked down at Nick with a note of nervousness in his voice.

"Fuck, yeah. Like, I'm going to object? No Harry, keep your clothes _on_!"

Harry hit him with his rolled up t-shirt and Nick giggled, fending him off then pulling his own shirt over his head. 

"C'mere." He opened his arms and Harry lay back down, lifting his face up to be kissed. They'd never gone as far as taking any clothes off before, and the warmth of the other's bare chest pressed against them was intoxicating.

Their kisses became shorter, sharper, more frantic, biting at each other's lips, their hands roaming and clutching. 

Having had enough of being stuck underneath, Nick attempted to roll them over and nearly tipped Harry onto the floor. 

"Hey!" Harry clung to him indignantly, and Nick wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back up apologetically.

"Sorry." He grinned. "I need a bigger sofa."

Harry bit his lip. "We could - " He swallowed, hoping that Nick would finish the thought for him, but the bastard just lay there politely waiting for Harry to finish. "Take this into the bedroom?"

Nick's eyebrows went up, and he sat up a little, before kissing Harry on the forehead. "You sure?" he breathed.

Harry nodded, feeling suddenly stupidly nervous and wondering if he'd just agreed to more than he'd meant to. But Nick was kissing him again, slow and loving, and Harry knew he trusted him.

They stood up together, and Harry smiled as Nick actually took his hand. He almost came out with something automatically mocking and defensive but bit it back, squeezing Nick's fingers instead.

In the bedroom, Nick turned back the duvet and sat down, hands hesitating over his fly. 

Harry took a deep breath and pulled his own jeans right down, having to sit down next to Nick to pull them right off, and ignoring Nick's giggling. At least it had broken the brief moment of tension, and Nick was soon wriggling out of his shorts and boxers to join him.

They climbed under the covers together, and Harry scooted across to lie in Nick's arms. Harry couldn't stop the intake of breath as he felt Nick's cock pressing against his stomach, and he felt himself going red.

Nick smoothed Harry's hair back from his face, smiling at him in something like disbelief. "You're gorgeous when you blush, did you know that?"

"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered, but he didn’t resist when Nick kissed him.

Harry's brief worry that things might escalate too rapidly was eased as things continued much as before, albeit with more skin involved. At first they just lay next to each other, kissing lazily and caressing each other, arms, chests, lips. After a while, Nick reached down between them and with a glance at Harry to make sure it was okay, wrapped his hand around Harry's cock.

"Fff." Harry dug his head back into the pillow, arching into Nick's grip and ignoring his soft laugh. Nick had big hands, and it felt so amazing Harry was soon bucking impatiently into the touch.

"God, Harry." Nick sounded hoarse, and Harry opened his eyes to see him watching him with an unreadable expression. 

"Nick?" Harry wondered belatedly if Nick was annoyed with him, if he should have been paying more attention to Nick instead of just lying here like some kind of entitled fucking princess. He started to sit up, but Nick pushed him gently back down, and Harry caught his breath as Nick slid a leg across and lay down on top of him. He was holding his weight up on his elbows though, and watching Harry carefully.

"Is this alright?" Nick whispered, when Harry didn't say anything either way. "I won't - I mean, you're quite - safe, I won't - " he broke off, wincing with embarrassment, but Harry was already craning up to meet him, throwing his arms around Nick's chest and kissing him hard.

Nick made a noise somewhere between relieved giggle and groan of despair, bearing Harry down to the sheet and rolling his hips against him. 

Harry spread his legs instinctively under the pressure and hiccupped a little as Nick's cock slid between his thighs. But Nick's lips were smiling against his mouth, and Nick's fingers were splayed securely under his shoulderblades, and Harry felt an urge to laugh bubbling up inside him. Instead he threw his head back, gasping for breath as Nick kissed his way down his throat and chest.

"Fuck," Harry managed, trying to pull himself together enough to contribute something to this. Nick seemed entirely happy to be in control of things though, and Harry had to admit it felt fucking amazing to just let go and let it happen. He could feel Nick hard between his legs and rubbed up against him, both encouraging and seeking more friction, no longer nervous that things might go further than he wanted.

"Harry." Nick looked up from where he'd been sucking an entirely unwise lovebite onto Harry's stomach. His hair was dark with sweat, and his eyes full of want. "Can I suck you?"

"Uh. Yeah?" Harry nodded, thinking that that hadn't been the world's most gracious response, but Nick was already kneeling over him and bending down, the covers slipping off, and, _Oh, fuck._

It wasn’t as if it was the first time Harry had been sucked off, but it had never felt quite like this. Nick took him further in than Harry had thought was possible, working him with his hand at the same time that he was sucking around him. 

Harry's fingers clenched in the sheets, his world narrowing to nothing but lips, tongue, hand, sucking, licking, squeezing, slick, wet, _aching_. 

Already turned on to a huge extent by the time they'd spent kissing and exploring each other, Harry realised a split second too late that he was going to come. 

Body clenching in sudden spasm, he opened his mouth to croak a warning, but managed only a groan as he came hard into Nick's mouth.

When it was over, Nick sat up, lips clenched together, glistening with spunk and looking indignant. Harry fought for breath to get an apology out, as Nick rolled his eyes and made himself swallow.

"It's generally considered polite to warn someone you know," he said archly.

"I'm sorry." Harry sat up, mortified. "I am so, so sorry, I - " Nick cut him off by kissing him, licking deliberately over his tongue so Harry had to swallow around traces of his own come.

"I'm really sorry," Harry whispered again, when they broke off. Nick snorted.

"Relax, I was kidding." He hugged Harry to him, kissing him again with a widening grin. 

Harry leaned against him, grateful for the warm arms holding him up. He felt if he was left alone he could just melt right off the bed. After a moment, he became aware that Nick was not so subtly prodding him in the side with his cock, and guilty realisation dawned.

"Oh, sorry, yeah." Harry looked down and bit his lip. "Did you - did you want me to, er - ?"

Nick started to nod, then caught the unsure expression on Harry's face. "Only if you want to?"

"I, er. I just - haven't," Harry said, feeling himself go red again. There should be nothing to it, right? It was just - a bit intimidating to have to do well on his first go, and - 

Harry realised Nick had taken his hand and looked up in surprise. Nick smirked, and drew Harry's hand down to rest on his cock, rocking it a few times under his own fingers until Harry got the message.

"Sorry," Harry breathed, lying down beside him and swapping hands for a more comfortable position. "I should be - "

"Nothing wrong with a hand job," Nick told him, smiling up with half-closed eyes. "Harry, stop worrying. You're fucking amazing, and I can't believe we're doing this, and - " 

Harry laid a hand over his mouth to shut him up and Nick promptly licked his palm, making Harry snatch it away again with a squeak.

"Bastard." 

"Shut up and wank me off."

"Serve you right if I just went home."

They smiled at each other, feeling back on much firmer ground to be taking the piss again.

Harry leaned in, frowning a little as he concentrated on the motion of his hand, on making it feel as good as he possibly could, and gave Nick a long, slow kiss, with a lot of tongue. 

By now Nick was writhing slightly, and when Harry released his mouth he was panting hard. Harry started jerking him harder and faster, until Nick suddenly grabbed his hand, holding it still. For a split-second Harry thought he'd done something wrong, but then Nick came with a shuddering moan, and he felt Nick's cock pulsing under his fingers.

"Fuck." Nick released Harry's hand and flopped back against the pillow. "That was - fuck."

Harry grinned, and wriggled up against him for a kiss. "Next time, I promise I'll suck you off," he whispered.

Nick looked at him in slight surprise. "Next time?" 

"Unless - I mean, we don't have to," Harry stuttered, backtracking quickly. 

Nick quickly wrapped an arm round him, kissing him on the shoulder. "Of course I want to. I just - thought you might not."

"Well, I do," Harry said awkwardly.

"Well, good." 

There was a pause, and they both started laughing again. 

"It's just - you've never said," Nick started softly, after they'd cleaned themselves up a bit and snuggled back under the duvet. "I mean - before, when we - you never mentioned it, after, so I thought maybe - you preferred to pretend it didn’t happen."

"You never bloody said anything either!" Harry said indignantly. "I was waiting for you! I thought you didn't - " He sighed in frustration. 

Nick looked sheepish. "Oh. Sorry. Well, better late than never, eh?" 

They dozed in comfortable silence for a while, occasionally waking up enough to kiss each other on the closest available patch of skin.

"So. Not that I'm complaining. But what brought this on, exactly?" Nick asked after a while, drawing lazy circles on Harry's back with his fingers. 

Harry thought for a while before answering. "I don't know really. I suppose - a bit of distance gives you a new perspective. All the time I was away, I couldn’t stop thinking about you," he confessed slowly, wary of being laughed at. But Nick nodded, hugging Harry closer and indicating he should go on.

"At first it was just like - I missed hanging out with you. And I started picturing coming back, maybe like a day early or something, and surprising you. And then I started thinking about how I missed your stupid hugs, and how you might hug me when I came back. And then - " 

Harry rolled onto his front, staring down at the pillow instead of at Nick, because this was fucking embarrassing to admit. "Somehow it became about you kissing me. And - went from there, really." He risked a look at Nick, and was relieved to find he wasn’t laughing. "I may have - pictured this. A bit. A few times."

Nick wriggled closer on the pillow so he was looking up at Harry, and smirked. "Would it make you feel better if I said I've had fantasies about sucking you off since before I met you?"

"How long before?" Harry demanded, not quite knowing whether to be flattered or embarrassed.

"You - might have still been on the X Factor," Nick confessed, looking not the slightest bit ashamed.

"I was sixteen!" Harry laughed, slapping him on the chest.

"So sue me." Nick caught his hand, and kissed it, smiling.

"You never said anything," Harry said a while later, when they'd stopped kissing again. "I mean - if you really fancied me all that time?"

"I thought you were _straight_!" Nick retorted defensively.

"Before or after you snogged me?" 

"Well. You _were_ sleeping with one of my best friends," Nick pointed out, and it was Harry's turn to look embarrassed. 

"Oh, yeah. Well. I guess I'm just not fussy."

"Oh, thanks."

"You know what I mean!" Harry sighed, and Nick laughed.

"Yeah. If it's any consolation, she gave you a glowing write up," he said slyly. 

Harry sat bolt upright. "You did not bloody discuss - " he broke off as he took in Nick's gleeful expression.

"Gotcha. April fool," Nick snickered happily.

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Well, it's been Monday for hours. It's April the first." Nick tugged Harry's arm until he lay down again, and kissed his nose to make him laugh.

"Does that mean I can't trust anything you say?" Harry said, sleepily resigned.

"Since when do you trust anything I say anyway?" Nick pointed out.

"True."

"Harry," Nick started after another pause, then stopped again.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really want this? I mean - not just this, I suppose what I'm saying is, do you want - me, I suppose, which you don't because why would you, and I should probably just shut up and - yeah." Nick groaned. It had seemed a relatively straightforward question in his head, but then his mouth had got in the way.

Harry was laughing. "Yes." He rolled over and rested a hand on Nick's chest, bent to kiss him. "For the record, I do."

"Really?" Nick looked up at him, guardedly hopeful. "You're not gonna yell April Fool or something?"

"No joke. I promise." Harry kissed him again. "I want you Nick," he said in a low voice. "I want - everything. I want you to show me."

"I thought you were tired?" Nick grinned, trying to cover for the fact that he had absolutely no idea what to say to that other than an overwhelming urge to hug Harry until he squealed, and very possibly never let him leave the flat again in case he changed his mind.

"Well I didn't mean right now," Harry said, sighing good-naturedly and smiling in response to Nick's daft grin. 

"Although - you don't have a show tomorrow, and I don't have to be anywhere until the evening," Harry pointed out slowly. "So we could - I dunno. Whatever you want, I s'pose. _If_ you want," he added, suddenly wondering whether Nick had actually wanted anything more than an uncomplicated shag, and if he was being horribly presumptuous.

"Do you really need to ask?" Nick pulled him closer and kissed him in turn. "I would sell my left testicle to spend the day in bed with you. Well, someone's left testicle, anyway," he amended. "Think I might need mine."

"You're an idiot," Harry told him, settling down in the crook of Nick's arm, and tugging his chest hair.

"Ow!" Nick threaded his fingers firmly through Harry's to keep them out of trouble, and then had to let go again to turn the light off. 

They lay there in the semi-dark, faint light coming through the curtains and from under the door where the sitting room lights were still on. It was warm, and peaceful, and Harry was nearly asleep when he heard Nick whisper something.

"Welcome home, Harry."

He smiled, and nestled in closer.

"It's good to be back."


End file.
